Taffin on Balance Read online

  Some time later they lie back and contemplate the pre-dawn glow.

  Julia says, ‘It’s not so spooky now. D’you want to get up and have a look around while we’ve got the place to ourselves?’

  ‘Why not?’ Ed reaches for T-shirt and jeans. ‘If there is someone in that house, I wouldn’t mind knowing.’

  There’s no sound from Kath and Rick’s end of the caravan as they let themselves out to the Neutral light, huddling against the chill, breathing the flinty, damp earth smell.

  The house looms in front of them, featureless.

  ‘Where did you say the light was?’

  ‘Up the top,’ Julia points, ‘where that gable is.’

  ‘You up for a bit of breaking and entering?’

  ‘Not really. If the floors are all rotten the place is a death trap.’

  ‘We met in a place like that, I seem to remember.’ Ed gives her a nudge. ‘You were hanging out in the attic.’

  ‘Don’t remind me. Those were my commune-dwelling, rebel days.’

  ‘Why don’t we try the door? If it’s locked, we’ll forget it.’

  ‘Here’s the thing –’ Julia slows the pace – ‘I get pissed off in scary movies because the suspense is all fake – incredibly stupid people wandering into horrible places where you can tell something gruesome’s going to happen to them, and we’re supposed to be shocked when they trip over a corpse or bump into a zombie. You’d think the music would’ve warned them anyway.’

  ‘So we’ll just go for a walk then.’

  ‘I’m not scared of the dark.’

  ‘I never said you were.’

  ‘I just think we should leave the place alone.’

  ‘Woah...’ Ed’s eye-line shifts. ‘There’s the light. You weren’t hallucinating.’

  ‘So we’re definitely going to try the door now, aren’t we?’

  ‘If it’s locked...’

  ‘Yeah, yeah – get on with it.’

  The door is locked but it’s loose in the frame and yields to Ed’s shoulder.

  RICK BISHOP always sleeps well. Kath sleeps lightly, sometimes not at all. She heard the door open and close as Ed and Julia went out. She has no particular wish to go with them but gets out of bed anyway because what she really wants right now is a cup of tea.

  She spends a moment fumbling for the gas tap and strikes a match before noticing the kettle is electric.

  Not really awake. She gazes out of the window and it takes some seconds to register there’s a light on high up in the main house.

  Rick’s day starts with a pillow crashing against his ear. He has no control over his first remarks but he surfaces to the certain knowledge that Kath doesn’t appreciate language like that. Moments later he is outside the caravan, fully dressed, without having consciously made the effort to get there.

  Kath rubs her fingers against his temples. ‘Wake up – we’re needed.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Julia and Ed are in the house. They might fall through the floor and need help.’

  Rick struggles to comprehend as she leads him to the dark mass of the main building. No light is showing now but the door is open.

  BOB SHERMAN closes the internal shutters and walks carefully to his wing-back armchair. Three paces, but it takes effort and a balancing act on ninety-year-old legs. It’s worth it though; an occasional trip to the window and a breath of night air restores him.

  Bob is used to visitors: he has several every day. Doctor Morley looks in regularly to see how he’s doing and although he looks too young to be qualified he seems to know his business. Doctor Morley is relatively new on the scene, having replaced Bob’s original doctor for reasons that were never explained. There’s also a nurse called Kitty who helps him bath and shave a couple of times a week.

  Bob can’t complain; as the youngest son of a landowning family he grew up on the estate and never had to think seriously about making a living. He is used to service and expects to have a jocular relationship with those who look after him.

  A tall, mild man who wears tweed jackets and cravats, Bob has very little sense of time. One day moves seamlessly into the next and he spends his waking hours in his chair, reading old copies of Country Life and Punch or Churchill’s History of the English Speaking Peoples.

  There have already been several visitors tonight. Most are regulars. One in particular, who he calls ‘Geronimo’, put in an appearance around midnight. Geronimo has shoulder-length hair, a bandana round his head and elaborate pendants round his neck. He wanders in and out without a word, grinning broadly.

  There is also a lady in early-Victorian dress who carries a lantern; he knows her as Florence Nightingale. Sometimes the room fills with Sixteenth Century courtiers who mingle for a while and leave without ceremony. There have been others, but Geronimo and Florence are occupying his thoughts at the moment.

  Bob knows they are hallucinations but enjoys them anyway. They seem to have substance and are undeniably present, even if only to him.

  He was diagnosed, years ago, with Charles Bonnet Syndrome, a condition sometimes associated with poor eyesight, in which people and things appear in apparently tangible form. The illusions are powerful and can last for a few minutes at a time, or all day. Medical advice to sufferers is to stay home, out of harm’s way. Sudden reaction to perceived danger could be fatal, and rather than risk side-stepping an imaginary stagecoach and going under a real bus, Bob complies.

  Staying indoors is no problem; he enjoys the comfort of his room and looks forward to whatever the day may bring.

  And here, without warning, are two new visitors – a man and a woman, both in modern dress – T-shirts and jeans – which marks them as real.

  Definitely real.

  ‘Well good morning, or good evening, whichever it is.’ Bob peers at them over his glasses.

  Ed Pentecost blinks at him. ‘We saw the light...’

  ‘Was it a heavenly experience?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘We’re sorry to walk in on you,’ Julia stays in the doorway. ‘We thought the house was unoccupied.’

  ‘It is, apart from me. And the doctor, from time to time. And other people who pop in. And now you, of course.’

  ‘We didn’t mean to disturb you.’ Julia includes Ed with a glance.

  ‘You’re not disturbing me. What are you doing here?’

  ‘We’re here to work,’ Ed tells him.

  ‘What kind of work?’

  ‘Restoring some motors.’

  ‘Mechanics, are you?’

  ‘Kind of. Who are you?’

  ‘I live here. I think courtesy requires you to tell me your names before enquiring after mine.’

  ‘He means –’ Julia interrupts – ‘I’m Julia, this is Ed. Are you Mister Sherman?’

  ‘I am indeed.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what –’ Ed steps forward – ‘That’s a seriously valuable collection you’ve got down there in the barn.’

  ‘Is it? I never go down there. The new people have taken it off my hands.’

  ‘The new people – do you mean Eric McDermott?’ Julia leans to the old man’s face.

  ‘I don’t know all their names. There’s young Doctor Morley – he’s new – and a couple of others. You must be working with them.’

  ‘Not really. Have they bought the collection from you?’

  ‘They’ve tried flashing paperwork in front of me.’ Bob Sherwood flips a hand to dismiss it. ‘I can’t get excited about legal documents so I keep disappointing them. Too much paper in the world.’

  ‘Never sign anything,’ Ed remarks. ‘An old mate taught me that.’

  ‘Sound advice.’

  ‘I think we should leave you.’ Julia takes Ed’s arm and steps back. ‘Is
there anything you need?’

  ‘Can’t think of anything. Bit of peace and quiet never goes amiss.’ The old man pauses. ‘I’d like some sherbet lemons, but I don’t think you can get them any more.’

  ‘YOU SAID THERE WAS A LIGHT.’ Rick stumbles after Kath, hands thrust deep in pockets.

  ‘It’s gone out. I saw it though.’

  ‘This is too early for me, Kath – I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘Stop griping you miserable sod.’ Ed’s voice, out of the darkness ahead.

  Two dark forms emerge from the shadow of the house.

  Julia speaks softly. ‘There’s an old man in there. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.’

  ‘Fine. Let’s get some breakfast.’ Rick turns to the caravan and at the same moment a glow of headlights moves along the hedgerow in the lane and a white Transit Van swings into the enclosure.

  ‘This’ll be our toys,’ Rick remarks.

  ‘Stay close –’ Ed holds him back – ‘No reason to let them see us.’

  The Transit sweeps past them and parks outside the barn. Two men get out: one in overalls, the other in a pale overcoat. They move quickly to the barn door, haul it open and the strip lights cut a square glow in the dull morning.

  Four silent figures watch from the shadows as the two men haul heavy boxes into the barn. After a while the lights go out, steel doors close with a clash, the Transit sweeps past them and twin ruby tail-lights lurch away along the lane.

  A moment later the pale overcoat moves in the half-light, and they hear the main door of the house being eased open. A moment’s pause, then the door closes again and slow footsteps climb the staircase inside.

  NINE

  THE SUN COMES UP and low clouds send shadows scudding across the landscape. The smell of bacon lingers on the air. Ed steps down from the caravan nursing a warm coffee cup in his hands. The others follow.

  After a while the sound of an engine disturbs the stillness and the white Range Rover pulls up beside them. McDermott climbs out and stands square, facing them, hands on hips.

  ‘I thought I made it clear the main building is off limits.’

  Julia offers him a chilly smile. ‘You said we wouldn’t fancy staying there in its present condition. Those were your words.’

  ‘I should have put it more plainly, the place has been condemned, so if you’re tempted to go exploring, don’t.’

  ‘Well, yes SIR!’

  ‘You need to take this seriously,’ McDermott turns to the other three. ‘My colleague tells me the door had been forced when he arrived this morning.’

  ‘Sure – I tried the door.’ Ed looks him in the eye. ‘The lock’s knackered. If the house is dangerous you ought to do something about that.’

  ‘I expected you to take the hint and leave well alone, so now I’m warning you for your own good – the place is a death trap and I don’t want to be the one who has to explain a fatal accident. Are we all clear on that?’

  They’re all clear.

  ‘Alright then.’ McDermott’s stance eases. ‘I don’t want to speak harshly to you any more than you want to hear it, but we’re going to need some discipline here. We’ve got a mountain to climb and no one said it was going to be easy. I’m paying big money so there are no tea breaks, no early nights – just sweat and more sweat – no let-up until we get some results.’

  ‘Where did you learn to talk like that?’ Ed tosses coffee dregs aside.

  ‘That’s just my way – you’ll get used to it. Your equipment’s here now so what are you standing around for? And by the way, I’m glad to see you’re early risers. That’s a bonus.’

  ‘Couldn’t sleep.’ Julia, ready to provoke him by any means possible.

  ‘Sorry to hear that. You can catch forty winks while the lads get to work.’

  ‘We all work.’ Kath studies him with distaste.

  ‘You ladies are engineers and bodywork specialists as well?’

  ‘We get by.’

  ‘So be it. I hope you don’t expect to bill me for extra man-hours. We’ve agreed a deal and that stands, so let’s get on with it.’ McDermott leads them to the barn, heaves the door open and flicks on the lights.

  Ed makes a slow tour of inspection. ‘You mentioned a colleague. Where is he?’

  ‘There’ll be people here from time to time but they won’t be in anybody’s way. Their work needn’t concern you.’

  ‘I like to know who’s around. Whoever it is doesn’t mind going in the ‘death trap’ house then?’

  ‘They’re experts – surveyors.’

  ‘Well, that’s a comfort. Next question: There’s a Cord eight-twelve in the pictures you showed us. I don’t see it here.’

  ‘Ah yes, beautiful car, beautiful example. It’s no longer available – sold to a very persistent collector.’

  ‘That don’t make sense. Why would you sell a Cord when you’re trying to put a motor museum together?’

  ‘Not my decision.’ McDermott goes to the pile of newly delivered boxes.’ Let’s get your supplies unpacked and start climbing that mountain!’

  TAFFIN LIES ON THE BED looking up at the dark beams straddling the high pitch of the ceiling.

  A key scrapes in the lock and a latch opens with a clack.

  ‘Bloody’ell, it’s freezing in here.’ Charlotte, hands full of carrier bags, forces the door open with her knee and walks across the bare, polished parquet floor. Taffin watches her peacefully as she unloads thermos, chicken drumsticks, a pork pie and a Tupperware box of potato salad.

  ‘The place ain’t finished yet,’ he remarks. ‘Has that pie got jelly in it?’

  ‘You think I’d get you a pork pie without jelly? Never in this world.’ Charlotte unrolls a napkin of cutlery. ‘I saw Ashley. He reckons he’ll be putting the heating in next week. How long are we going to stay here?’

  ‘Until I hear from Ed.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘You’ll be here by yourself for a bit.’

  ‘How long? How long is a bit?’

  ‘Depends. When we know who’s behind our present troubles we can make plans. Until then, we both stay away from the business and let them wonder where we might be.’

  ‘You can almost see the business from here.’ Charlotte wanders to the window. ‘About a mile and a half I reckon, beyond those trees.’

  ‘Near enough.’

  Charlotte crosses the room and looks out of the window on the far side. ‘There’s the church tower, so Lasherham’s down there to the left, Mitres Well Lane starts at the top of the hill on the other side, so our place is about a mile that way.’ She leans to look left. ‘See? I’m getting orientated now.

  ‘You’ve got it.’

  ‘How are you doing with that gadget?’

  The gadget is an iPad that Taffin keeps beside him. It has a link to night vision security cameras at Muscle Motors, allowing him to monitor any activity there, day and night. There is a similar connection to their house in Mitres Well Lane. Kath Brewer supplied and set up the system at Taffin’s request, then spent hours patiently trying to teach him to use it. In the end she gave up and showed Charlotte.

  ‘Alright.’ Taffin glances at the iPad. ‘It’s smarter than me. I get a nice view of empty rooms without having to be there.’

  ‘That’s what you call luxury.’

  ‘She’s a good girl, that Kath.’

  ‘Yeah, Rick got himself a good one there. Well, come on, has Big Brother shown you anything yet?’

  ‘I’ve watched you in the shower.’

  ‘No you haven’t. There’s only cameras downstairs and on the outside wall at our place.’ Charlotte picks up the iPad and peers at the screen. ‘Not really you, is it? Kath says you’re not at one with technology.’

  ‘Better off wit
h a book.’

  ‘So I see.’ Charlotte puts the iPad aside and picks up the copy of Walking Distance propped against the bed. ‘Russell Chambers Gates again. You can’t get enough of this fella. Looks a bit dry to me.’

  Taffin watches her with mild amusement. ‘I’ll read to you if you like.’

  ‘Later.’ Charlotte peels off her jacket and top. ‘Not doing anything else today, are we?’

  IF THE TASK is to clean a large area strewn with antique machinery, you start high and work downwards to floor level, then clear away the debris, raising as little dust as possible.

  By midday, the part of the barn closest to the door is clean and free from obstruction and several venerable motors have been unveiled as the cobwebs were swept away. The SS Jaguar and the Facel Vega have been put on blocks, the wheels have been removed and the brake drums cleaned.

  Looking at progress so far, Ed Pentecost reckons they have two weeks work ahead of them before any kind of restoration can start.

  McDermott stayed to satisfy himself they knew what they were doing and left them to it.

  ‘Not a man for manual labour.’ Rick’s voice from a far corner as the Range Rover disappears along the lane.

  ‘Yeah,’ Ed wipes grease from his hands. ‘He thinks we paddled up the Thames in a coracle. ‘If the old geezer in that house owns this lot, he’s being conned out of a fortune.’

  ‘We can’t get involved in that.’ Julia straightens up from the Jaguar’s front suspension. ‘He’s a real old gent but he doesn’t know what day it is. Maybe all this belongs to him, maybe not – maybe he’s signed it away without knowing what he was doing – we don’t know.’

  Ed shakes his head. ‘I want to know what happened to that Cord.’

  ‘Kath reckons the Cord was never here.’ Rick picks his way towards them.

  ‘It was in two of the photos. We all saw it.’

  ‘We’ve found the place where it was, but there’s no room for it there. Kath thinks the pic was faked. There’s no way you could fit a thing that size into the space.’